


Broken Porcelain

by manta6



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M, Surgeon!Kaneki, The feels, hospital au, like really, theys guys need happiness why can't I give it to them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4051543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manta6/pseuds/manta6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A faint stream of tears trickles down past the crusty blood on her cheeks, and all Kaneki can do is stare."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Porcelain

   A Heavy, sterile scent occupies the room. A damp gauze lies near a scalpel, other surgical tools on a dull gray tray. The fumes from the rubbing alcohol cling to the scrubs of the trauma surgeon, Kaneki Ken, as a warm sting lingers just behind his eyes at the sight before him.

   In the gurney lies a girl, who's somewhere in her teens, and she's utterly broken. Only small, tiny, struggled breaths and a faint heartbeat prevent her from receiving a death certificate.

   Hard to believe a car could create such a horror. Her ethereal features are like fine china, except this fine china looks to have been smashed against a wall. Even the slightest pressure from the oxygen mask over her nose must ache. Chills dance their way down Kaneki's spine as a hiss is expelled from the breathing machine, which bombinates somberly in the background.

   Her clothes are covered in drying blood, and spatters of hemoglobin also cake her auburn hair. Her right arm lies twisted and bent, a dangling twig attached to her shoulder. Embedded in the crook of the broken limb lies a plethora of minuscule, translucent plastic tubules. These run from her arm up to an assemblage of various bottles and Iv drips, stung together on what looks to be a metal, medical tree. Within the vital vials, are fluids holding this delicate girl in the land of the living. As they trickle down into the vast array of plastic, a certain effervescence is produced in the glasses, imbuing a clinical bitterness to the room.

  A faint stream of tears trickles down past the crusty blood on her cheeks, and all Kaneki can do is stare. He has seen many mangled patients before, and many worse than this, but the prone form was too much for him. He wanted to help, he needed to, but he couldn't. For the first time in his career, Ken Kaneki couldn't operate.

    It was a burning itch under the surgeon's skin. He wanted to, needed to help, but he couldn't. All he could do was stare at the broken porcelain doll before him.

   While her physical condition was painfully obvious, that of her mental state was shrouded in mystery. She had been flitting in and out of consciousness for a while, but other than a presumed concussion, nothing else was known.

   With glassy eyes, Ken watches as the broken body is moved to an operating table. The bustle of those in scrubs was dizzying as the preparation were coming to a close.

   A tap on his shoulder breaks his daze momentarily, as he is turns to find colleague. Her violet eyes filled to the brim with sympathy meet his graphite-grey ones, and as she runs a hand through her equally violet hair, quietly she asks him to leave.

   Mindlessly, the doctor shuffles through the white halls, numb and inattentive. Shoes squeak against the eggshell linoleum as he walks. A deep, sterile chill settles on the pit of his stomach, and burrows into bone.

   With nothing more to do, Kaneki, dead in his feet, shambled towards the waiting room. Parting the doors he's greeted by many somber, tired faces. Amongst the melancholy men and women, Kaneki's destination awaits. It wasn't hard to find him, for he bolted up the second he say the doors open. The raven haired man makes his way to the him, the girl's father. His blond hair was a mess, and his rich, whiskey-brown eyes bloodshot. This man was utterly and entirely crushed.

   Stress seemed to ooze out of the worn parent, it was palpable to any near him. The blond was terrified, and this unnerved the Kaneki.

   His face was one meant to smile, and the emotions currently plastered to the blond's were so... Out of place.

   The clicking of shoes on tile came ceased, as the two men were less than a foot apart. The man, who had about about two inches on the doctor, placed his chin on Ken's shoulder, arms wrapping around his slight frame, as he's brought into a bone-crushing bear-hug.

   They stood there like that,crying and holding each other for what felt like an eternity, as silent sobs rack their bodies. Others in the waiting room were confused by the ebony doctor's actions, but they shouldn't have been. What kind of parents wouldn't be a train-wreck after seeing their daughter so broken?

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it, and I appriciate any of your feedback!
> 
>  
> 
> (Check out my tumblr, hidekenyounot)


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